An odd glitter abruptly entered the pale eyes. "Actually I believe that there must be a startling clarity that can be found when confronted by impending death. What other moment can offer such a rare opportunity to thrust aside all frivolous distractions so that one is allowed to concentrate on the meaning of life? As an Immortal I am denied such a moment of enlightenment, so I search for it among the humans. For all their weaknesses, they must gain some knowledge in that final breath. Now that my experiments can continue, I possess great faith that I shall uncover the most fascinating revelations. It is all a matter of discovering the proper mortals for my research."
There was a fevered edge in his tone that struck a chill in Lucien, but he determinedly kept his expression impassive. The vampire had obviously lost all sense in his thirst for knowledge.
"You are now free of the Veil. What need have you for the Medallion?"
A sudden sneer twisted Amadeus's features. "I am not so naive as to believe Nefri will tolerate my peculiar studies. Like you, she possesses an inexplicable fondness for mortals. And, of course, the lure of power is undeniable. With the Medallion I shall be beyond the tedious strictures of the Great Council and free to indulge in my thirst for knowledge, no matter where it might lead."
Lucien slowly straightened his shoulders, his own expression grim. "All very commendable, no doubt, but I fear I cannot allow you to claim the Medallion."
Amadeus gave a sharp laugh at his firm warning. "You believe you can halt me?"
"If necessary."
"Then we are destined to be enemies." The vampire gave a mocking bow. "May the best vampire win. Adieu, Lucien."
With supreme nonchalance Amadeus turned on his heel and moved down the darkened street. Lucien briefly fingered the dagger beneath his coat before giving a shrug. He truly hoped that there would be no need to actually put an end to the vampire. No matter what his distaste for Amadeus and his torture of humans, he was a brother to him. It would be a terrible thing to destroy him.
Giving a shake of his head, Lucien shrugged off his dark thoughts. For the moment his concern was for the Medallion—and Miss Kingly. He could not allow himself to be distracted.
With movements too swift for human eyes, Lucien disappeared into the shadows and made his way back to the small house that was now his home. His fleetness ensured that he arrived upon the doorstep only moments after Miss Kingly, and with silent steps he slipped in behind her. It was only when he lightly touched her upon the shoulder that she gave a startled jerk and turned to regard him with a wide gaze.
"Oh, Mr. Valin," she breathed, not completely able to hide her relief that he was not some villain intent upon harm.
"Good evening, Miss Kingly," he murmured softly, his gaze deliberately moving to the smudge of dirt upon her cheek and down to the torn bodice of her gown. "What has occurred?"
She belatedly attempted to hide her wounds with the well-worn shawl. "'Tis nothing."
His expression firmed at her ridiculous words. "'Tis more than nothing."
Without awaiting her approval, he grasped her elbow and sternly steered her toward the small front salon. She attempted to protest, but it was obvious she was still too unnerved by the murder of her friend to conjure her usual spirit.
"What are you doing?"
"Those wounds must be attended to or they will become infected," he retorted, leading her to a chair and pushing her onto the threadbare cushion. He crossed toward the sidebar near the window. "I presume you have brandy? Ah, here we are."
Grasping the small bottle of brandy, Lucien returned to the dazed maiden. He paused to remove a handkerchief from beneath his coat and poured the brandy onto the clean linen before gently pulling the shawl aside.
"This is not necessary," she protested as her cheeks filled with heat. "Meg is quite capable of assisting me."
He lifted his head to meet her embarrassed gaze. "Why would you disturb Meg when I am here? Now, hold still, this might burn."
He pressed the handkerchief to the scrape on her shoulder, his lips thinning as she flinched in pain. Amadeus would pay for causing her injury, he silently promised himself, determinedly cleaning the bits of dirt from the wound.
"Oh," she choked as he continued his ruthless cleansing.
He gave a rueful grimace. "I fear I have no means of making this painless."
She gritted her teeth. "It does not matter."
"May I inquire how you managed to find yourself in such a condition?" he demanded, hoping to take her mind off his ministrations.
"I encountered some ruffians."
"Ah. Hardly surprising in such a neighborhood. I suppose it would be a waste of time to warn you that a young, lovely maiden should not be wandering the streets at this hour?"
"You suppose correctly," she retorted in tart tones, no doubt having been warned of the dangers on more than one occasion.
"At least you should take along a companion. A lone woman is far more likely to be attacked."